


The Genius of Stark tower

by Agent C (arh581958)



Category: Avengers Academy (Video Game), Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alpha!Steve, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bingo 2018, JARVIS is a matchmaker, M/M, Rogers Family, Stony Bingo, Stony Fairytale Bingo 2018, challenge: bingo, challenge: fairytale, omega!Tony, pining!Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-29 01:09:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14461842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arh581958/pseuds/Agent%20C
Summary: Everybody must have been a little obsessed with the genius of Stark Tower. How could they not? Tony was so much more than his tech and armor. He was smart, if a little conceited. He treated everyone the same regardless of sex, second-gender, or intergalactic origin. That’s why he made so many friends and allies.... Okay, so Steve was maybe more than a little infatuated with the young genius.





	The Genius of Stark tower

**Author's Note:**

> I just decided to write this today. No premeditation, really, just a free-flow. 
> 
> **Warning** : Not Beta Read. Spoilery tags below.

Everybody must have been a little obsessed with the genius of Stark Tower. How could they not? Peoples’ eyes followed Tony wherever he went. He had an aura which drew crowds by the dozen—all of them wanting to bask in Tony’s attention for even just a second. His intellect and wit were second to none, challenging even intergalactic boundaries that midguardians could only hope to understand.

Okay, so Steve was maybe more than a little infatuated with the young genius. He’d been intrigued since the very first day—Tony came swooping in from the skies, thruster-boots and gauntlets burning with near-colorless flames. His yellow and red jacket billowed around him, and hair a complete mess. Easy to say, Steve had been gone since day once.

It was terrible!

Steve never stood a chance—not with his fanboy awkwardness making him tongue-tied by Tony’s mere scent. He gave his unsolicited opinion about high-altitude flight capabilities on the Iron Man armor which made Tony storm out of the room with a huff. His eyes followed Tony with predatory precision during meetings which made Peggy say a quip about toning-down his so-called glaring.

Thing was, Steve was staring not glaring.

He couldn’t consciously keep control of how his eyes looked 24/7, now, could he? Of course, he couldn’t. That was impossible to keep his admiration in check, especially when he grew to know more of the boy behind the famed genius.

Tony was so much more than his tech and armor. He was smart, if a little conceited. He treated everyone the same regardless of sex, second-gender, or intergalactic origin. That’s why he made so many friends and allies. Sometimes though he can get caught up in his tinkering and inventions that he’d lock himself in the tower for endless days.

Hence, Steve sentenced himself to simply admire Tony from afar where it was safer. He continued to like Tony from the pristinely cut lawn below. One thing to thank the serum for was his superhuman eye-sight. His range of vision covered the entire academy grounds as long as there were no obstructions in the way.

Steve forced himself to be content. One thing about Stark Tower were the windows—large, floor-to-ceiling things that brought lots of natural light. It also gave Steve a perfect view of the boy-genius whenever Tony was at work. For all Tony lazed around in meetings or lectures, he worked ten-times as hard in the sanctity of his sacred space.

When Tony worked, he worked. Only allowing his robot-AI, JARVIS, access to the lab for his basic needs like strongly brewed coffee—lots, and lots of strongly brewed coffee—and sometimes a sandwich or two. He was always slightly lighter after an inventing-binge, and Steve always worried.

“What the long face for, darling?” His mother asked, sliding a plate of creamed chicken and ham sandwiches layered with lettuce, tomatoes, and sliced hard-boiled eggs. It was a large meal to sustain Steve’s increased metabolism and appetite. “Are the kids in school saying mean things to you again? Should I go talk to Principal Fury?”

His mother vaguely knew what the Avengers Academy entailed. Sure, Fury personally came for a house-visit during the early days as an appeasement-of-sorts for the worried Sarah Rogers, but her understanding of the unique institution was limited.

Steve blushed a deep red, shaking his head. The thought of his mother having a fit in Fury’s office, giving the Director of the Academy a stern talking, made goosebumps rise on his skin.

“No one’s bullying me, Ma.” He said, picking at his food yet not bringing it to his mouth. It stayed suspended in mid-air, the thick cream dressing sagging to one-side and threatening to fall. _Plop_! It did fall but Steve didn’t seem to notice.

“Steve,” Sarah approached, one hand gently landing on her son’s shoulder, “Darling, you’ve barely touched your food! By know you should be asking for thirds and drooling over the apple-pie I’ve got warming in the over. Yet, you’ve barely even noticed it. Clearly something’s bothering you.”

Steve glanced down at his uneaten sandwich then, up to Sarah, then back down again. He lowered his meal to the plate slowly. “I—I—I think I like someone…”

“Someone,” Sarah intoned, thinking. “Someone new, perhaps? I see you’ve gotten over the little crush you had on Peggy. You always did favor her a little more than others. Oh, don’t give me that look, Steven Grant Rogers, you know as well as I that you most certainly did. I also did like her. But, I suppose you’re free to like whomever you’re all grown-up and are free to like whomever you wish.”

Steve merely ducked his head to make himself look smaller. It was certainly a feat in itself seeing as he stood nearly seven-feet. He played with his feet under the table, a habit from his childhood days as a runt whose feet hung off the edge of the chair. His face burned in embarrassment. Sarah Rogers could rival Fury’s seemingly magical intuition, mostly when it came to her son.

“Go on, darling,” Sarah said, pulling the seat beside Steve and settling on it. “Tell me about them—this marvelous young thing whose got you captivated. Surely, they must be interesting since they’ve garnered your attention. You can start from the beginning if that makes it easier.”

Truth to the matter, starting from the very beginning did make it easier for Steve to recount his encounters with Tony. He told his mother everything—about the robots, the snark, and Tony, whom was so much more than just being another smart kid on campus.

Tony was warm, and brilliant but never blinding. He was brainy, and intellectual but never imposing. He was friendly, admired by all but never snobbish. He was rich, and affluent but never judging. Tony shone like the rising sun, brightest at the darkest times, strongest when all hope’s but gone.

Steve could never put Tony into words. It bothered Steve though when Tony recklessly endangered himself to protect others, like the way Tony obsessively made tech for everyone in the academy—endlessly finding faults, trying to make everything even better—and forgetting to eat because of it.

“Oh, darling,” Sarah said affectionately, planting a kiss on Steve’s forehead. “Why don’t you end your visit early today? I’ll pack you a basket to bring back. If you finish your meal quickly, then you’ll have time to prepare him something for supper. That, at the least, will ease your inner alpha’s need to nurture its partner.”

Steve marveled at his mother’s seemingly endless fountain of wisdom. Sarah had done just that—packed him a heaping basket of food with ingredients for a week’s worth of sandwiches and the whole apple-pie.

“Ma,” Steve protested, seeing how she’s packed him everything and left nothing for herself. “I can’t—not all this, I can leave some—”

“Oh, hush, you.” She chastised, hands landing on her apron-clad hips. “I get my pay next week, then I can do the groceries. I’m sure they feed you plenty at that fancy school of yours, but nothing beats my homecooked meals. Or, have you found a new favorite chef to fill your stomach, Steve, darling?”

Steve furiously shook his head. “No, ma’am, ain’t nothing’ beats your cookin’, Ma.”

“Good.” Sarah kissed him on the cheek with a smile. She then prodded him out of his childhood chair and led him to the door. “It was nice seeing you, darling, but I’m sure you’ve got someone waiting for you when you get back. Make sure you let them taste your ol’ Ma’s cooking, alright?”

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” Steve said with a playful soldier’s salute. He broke his stance when he bent down to kiss her cheeks, grinning. “I’ll try to see you again real soon, Ma. Keep them real busy at the shop, okay?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Haven’t I raised you right, boy? My business is my business,” she jested, beaming. Her eyes melting into something affectionate seconds later. “Thank you, darling. Next time, bring your special someone to the shop for a meal. Tab’s on me.”

Now, wouldn’t that be ridiculous, to treat a billionaire to a humble Brooklyn meal? And yet, Steve’s smiled the whole ride back to the Academy. The lights of Tony’s lab were still on when he got there. Tony had been cooped up there the entire weekend again.

Parking his bike, Steve wrestled the basket out from the carrier. He set everything down on the counter of Stark Tower’s upper-floor pantry, the one closest to Tony’s lab. His mom did think of everything—there was whole wheat bread, cheese, cream chicken, lots of vegetables, and jars of her secret sauces. All Steve needed to do was assemble the ingredients into sandwiches.

 _Click_.

Steve turned in surprise to see Jarvis entering.

“Good evening, Captain Rogers,” said Jarvis, head inclined slightly to the side as if asking an unspoken question. “Would you like some assistance in food preparations? I am programmed with over four-thousand recipes in my databank and connected to the tower’s internet mainframe should none of them suffice. What can I make for you?”

Though Steve often saw Jarvis, spoke to the robot a handful of times regarding Tony’s welfare after a mission, he wasn’t accustomed to being the subject of the AI’s care. How unselfish of Tony program Jarvis to freely aid everyone around, even if it was something as basic as preparing a meal.

“Captain Rogers?”

“I, uh…” Steve glanced down at the half-dozen sandwiches on the plate before him. “I was just done, actually… but could you, maybe… uhm, bring these to Tony, please? My, uhm, I—my mother sent them over. It’s cream chicken. Tony’s not, uhh, uhm, allergic or anything, right? But, if he is—it’s fine, I’ll eat them. I should have asked first instead of assuming. I’ll just—”

“Sir doesn’t have allergies, Captain Rogers. Thank you for the concern over his welfare.” Jarvis said; and though his voice remained disembodied through the speakers, gratitude laced through the tone. He studied Steve, one arm closing over his robotic chest and a finger drawn to his metallic chin. “Though, if I may suggest, perhaps it will be better if you bring it to sir, Captain Rogers. Sir will be pleased.”

Steve’s ears turned red, head perking up. “Really?”

“Sir has been in the lab for fifty-two hours. It will be good for his psyche to have some form of human contact. Though he enjoys his time with us, bots, we lack integral things to communication like a scent. An omega, like sir, craves the scent of his peers.”

“No, really, I can just—uhm, call… Jan? She’s Tony’s best friend, right? I made enough to share. He’ll like her better.”

“I’m afraid Ms. Van Dyke has gone home for the weekend, Captain Rogers. She is due back tomorrow morning before the start of class.” Jarvis said, informed him. “Sir has consumed nothing but black coffee since this morning. He’s refused to eat any of the meal that I’ve prepared for him. I highly doubt he will refuse you.” The _please_ in Jarvis’ tone remained silent.

Really, Steve couldn’t argue with an AI’s reasoning.

“Alright,” Steve nodded. He picked up the plate awkwardly, trying not to let his nerves get the better of him.

Jarvis pulled something out of the refrigerator. “Lemonade goes well with cream chicken. Please bring this with you, Captain Rogers.”

Steve gratefully took the bottle, stuffing it along with two glasses into his now-empty basket. Its earlier contents now lay strewn all-over the pantry counter in a mess.

As if sensing his embarrassment, Jarvis spoke, “Worry not for the items, Captain Rogers, I shall have them packed and ready when you come back. Sir is on the weapons floor.” He stopped and grew silent, eyes flickering red in pulses then beeped into green. “I have just put your biometrics on the list of permissions. You now have access to the floor. Just place your hand on the access pad. Dum-E will lead you to sir. Goodbye, Captain Rogers.”

 Steve, feeling as if he’s just been dismissed by a robot, obeyed.

It was his first time to be in Tony’s workshop outside of post-mission check-ins with Iron Man. Sure, Iron Man was Tony as Tony was Iron Man—but Tony was more than just his suit of armor. Steve would more than want to get to know the man inside the suit.

The door to the lab opened with a woosh. A large single-armed robot with a two-pronged pincher met him at the entrance. This must have been the one Jarvis called Dum-E.

“Hello,” Steve said, waved awkwardly as best he could with two arms occupied.

Dum-Ed lifted its pincher, opened then twisted its prongs to reveal a dome-shaped camera in the middle. It studied Steve, much like Jarvis did, then clapped its prongs twice before rolling away. When Steve didn’t follow immediately, Dum-E spun his robotic arm around and clapped its prongs at Steve again.

Steve shook his head with a chuckle. “Alright, alright, I’m coming.”

Inside the lab was nothing short of amazing, even if it was quite messing. There were parts—broken, burnt, or just discarded—of old Tony’s tech scattered around. Steve noticed gears for Clint’s sky-cycle, red flexi-glass for Falcon’s goggles, wrist clamps for Spiderman’s webbings, cylinders of Widow’s bites, Bucky’s prototype arm, and finally a whole wall with hand-drawn schematics for nearly everyone’s suits with his big white Star-spangled suit at the center of all the chaos.

“Finally!” Steve heard Tony say, after Dum-E disappeared behind a large frosted glass wall. “Dum-E, where’s Jarvis? And my coffee? I need my coffee. Be a doll and fetch me Jarvis, why don’t you? Tell him to make it extra-thick. I got an idea for improvements on the armor. Increased thermal protection underwater and high-altitude. The limit does not exist, baby! Not for Tony Stark.”

Steve chose that moment to cough inelegantly, rocking on the balls of his feel.

“Why if it isn’t the Captain, our captain! What brings you here, Cap? Are we assembling? Did I forget to put the firewall off phone again? Is it your gear? Need me to fix something for you?” Tony sat, cross-legged, in the middle of the room with the Iron Man helmet on his lap. His words spilled a million miles per seconds without letting Steve get a word in, and though as if he was blind to the plate of food in Steve’s hand and the basket tucked under Steve’s arm.

Steve shyly looked away. “I was—I, uhm—I just came back to see my mother and she—uh, uhm, mom packed way too much food even for me. Nothing too special. Just cream chicken sandwiches with her special sauce. I thought, maybe—Jarvis said you haven’t eaten anything all day—so maybe, if you’d, like, we can, uhm… share?”

Tony blinked, mouth opening then closing but no words leaving his lips.

“I, uhm…” Steve cursed himself internally, backtracking. “Or not share. There’s still more in the pantry. I can just leave you this plate. I’ll make some more when I—I’ll just—I’m gonna—” He placed the plate on the nearest free surface he could find, which turned out to be the workbench right next to Tony with a mug of half-drunk stale coffee. The bottle of lemon juice came next. “Here, Jarvis said that lemonade might go together with this. I think he’s right. I’m just going to—” he backed away, clumsily hitting Dum-E with his shoulder. “Sorry! Sorry!”

The helmet fell to the floor with a loud clang as Tony surged up, barely grabbing onto Steve’s Henley with his fingers. A light pink blush spread across his entire face.

“Hey, I don’t eat _that_ much,” he mumbled, head lowered uncharacteristically. “We can—” he bit his lower lip for a second, “—share. You can, I mean if you want, we can eat together.” Just then, Tony’s stomach decided it was a good idea to second the idea—growling loud enough for both boys to hear its complains.

Steve found it even more adorable. A large smile slowly spread across his face.

“Yeah—yeah, I’d love that, actually,” he confessed.

Tony turned his face away, but he muttered something which sounded an awful lot like “me too.”

They ate their meal in amicable conversation. Most of it covered by Tony’s excited explanations about his ideas, with Steve chirping in a thing or two every so often. The whizz of machines, mostly Dum-E and another smaller bot that Steve would later find out was called U, in the background.

That was how Steve caught the eye of the boy behind the genius of Stark Tower. He found that he liked Tony as Tony compared to anything else—the brash, strong-willed, highly-intelligent omega that had a heart valuing more than his entire company’s net-worth. Perhaps, by then, Steve had already been more than a little in-love.

Years later, Tony would claim that it was their first non-dating date and Steve wouldn’t correct him.

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for the following;  
> > Fairytale: Repunzel  
> > Bingo: Secret Admirer
> 
> ***
> 
> If you have a prompt or an idea, you As always, kudos/comments/bookmarks are all appreciated by this author. I take comments as extra-kudos and I do read the bookmark tags (some are really fun).
> 
> If you have a prompt or an idea, you can INSPIRE ME on tumblr. Or TALK TO ME.


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